


The Lioness

by Aya_Diefair



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Molly Weasley, Canonical Child Abuse, F/M, Found Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Manipulative Dumbledore, Maternal Instincts, Molly Weasley Takes Action, Motherhood, Not Canon Compliant, Not Dumbledore Friendly, Possessive Behavior, Protective Behavior, Wards? What Wards?, Weasley's Adopt Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-05-30 06:32:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15091058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aya_Diefair/pseuds/Aya_Diefair
Summary: When Molly first met Harry at Kings Cross, she thought he was a boy from an orphanage who discovered he was something more.  It was only after her children claimed to have rescued The-Boy-Who-Lived from a locked room and barred windows did Molly find herself standing on the porch of 4 Privet Drive, smiling warmly at a petrified Petunia while offering baked goods.





	1. Petunia

**Author's Note:**

> It always bothered me how nonchalant Molly was about Harry and his living conditions. I love Molly, and yes she has her flaws, but you cannot be a seasoned mother like her and just ignore a child in need who was clearly suffering in silence and didn't want to bother others with his problems. So many red flags a mother would see. This is my take on what should've happened. Enjoy.
> 
>  
> 
> _Originally written for:_  
>  Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)  
> Monthly Challenges for All  
> The Houses Competition
> 
>  **Word Count:** (Per Google Docs) 4,081

**Chapter 1 - Petunia**

 

Motherhood was always something Molly Weasley née Prewett wanted out of life. It had been rooted in her core since she first understood what a life's purpose meant to someone. She knew what hers was since before she could remember; she wanted to be a mother. It was a very traditional and proper aspiration, she knew, but she didn't care so much about the standard customs. She wasn't doing it because it was expected of her to become one, she was doing it for herself, because she wanted to be one. The only challenge Molly faced to help fulfill this life's purpose was to find that perfect someone who shared the same aspiration for parenthood as strongly as she did.

When Molly had found that special someone in Arthur Weasley, she knew he was the one based on his compassion for others. He shared a lot of family values she also valued, and was hard working despite his fascination with muggle trinkets. The witch snatched him right up at the first opportunity. The two happened to be purebloods, but blood status was never something important among the Prewett and Weasley families. If anything, the lack of a proper wedding was what perturbed their relatives most. Even though it was a part of Molly's dream to have a large wedding surrounded by loved ones, eloping worked just as well given the circumstances the world was facing.

The couple started their family young in the wake of war. It was their way of establishing some form of happiness in such dark times when the uncertainty of tomorrow overshadowed the world. Molly didn't find it ideal to raise children in the height of it all, but there were careful steps made in order to keep their modest cottage – and quickly growing family – on the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole safe and protected.

Having seven children in the modern wizarding world was quite the dedication – and to some, quite reckless – but it was what Molly always wanted. A large kin did not come cheap, either. Making sure there was adequate space for everyone to be comfortable in was costly, and so many of the renovations and additional floors added to their cottage were handled by Molly and Arthur. It was tough on a single mid-grade government salary, but they made due. Molly strived to provide everything needed for her family; food on the table, a roof over their heads, proper fitted clothing (even the hand-me-downs were adjusted for their next owners comfort), and above all, giving unconditional love and making sure everyone was happy.

Stretching their galleons became a skill Molly took pride in. If the witch could cook it, stitch it, or raise it, she did just that to keep costs low. It was why the modest property was covered in gardens and chickens, and the Burrow (as the name of their house was lovingly referred as) always smelled of various home baked goods and meals.

Molly was a seasoned mother by the time she unknowingly met the famous Harry Potter at Kings Cross. She knew at first glance that there was something abnormal about the boy, but not in the way most would've thought. He was alone, confused, and lost as he hauled a trunk and owl around the station while reading signs.

Every motherly alarm in her head went off at the sight of him. Seeing that the obvious first year had no escort, or even a clue as to where to go, she hastily approached him while dragging her daughter behind her.

"Hello, dear," Molly said kindly, offering a gentle smile to the boy who now looked up at her. "Are you needing help finding a platform?"

He gave her a hesitant nod, seeming unsure on if he should have even answered to a stranger. Looking to her children that quickly filed in behind her, she absentmindedly spoke to the boy again, forgetting that he was carrying an owl around to help indicate where he was needing to be whisked away to.

"Now, what was the platform number you need?"

"You've been coming here for years, and today you've suddenly forgotten it?" one of the twins said as they approached Molly. "She's finally lost it, George!"

She gave Fred a hard swat on the arm. "You mind your business!" Looking back at the boy, she clarified her question. "Do you need help getting to nine and three-quarters?"

He nodded before her children started moving passed them. The black-haired boy watched with widened eyes as they all casually ran through the wall in staggered bursts. Molly saw the look on his face go from confusion, to shock, to complete awe. He glanced around at all the oblivious people just walking right on by, not bothering to notice what he'd just seen.

She smiled again, seeing that the young wizard was clearly unsure of what to do or say. "Come stand over here, you can go before Ron, it will be his first time to Hogwarts as well."

Molly flagged both boys over toward the wall, pointing to it as she explained what to do. "Now, don't be scared, but all you have to do is exactly what you saw."

She held back the urge to inquire about his lack of escort, the poor child already looked embarrassed and uncomfortable enough as is. She didn't want to further agitate him as she watched him be absorbed through the wall before quickly following behind. It occurred to her that he might have came from an orphanage based on his appearance, but wouldn't the Ministry make sure that children with no family would be properly directed on where to go when they received their letter?

When her kids told her a few minutes later that the child she helped was _the_ Harry Potter, she couldn't fully believe it herself. If that were true, surely he'd be placed in much better care than an orphanage. Why would the boy who saved the wizarding world appear so poorly? It seemed like Harry should deserve far better as a thanks for defeating He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It was the very least their government could do for him, so they should have done better.

She made sure to send Harry some gifts for Christmas after Ron mentioned he wasn't expecting anything from the relatives he happened to live with. Every child should have something to open, even if it was a home-knit jumper and some baked goods. It just didn't feel like she was putting in enough effort to help Harry, but she was withholding her motherly intuition and instincts, giving his relatives the benefit of the doubt. She shouldn't judge his home life based on his appearance, perhaps his guardians were not that well off themselves and were doing the best they could for him.

It wasn’t until Molly finally saw his guardians at the end of term and tried to engage them that had her change her mind. Not only were they quite rude, they were already yelling at Harry to hurry it up and quickly walked away while he struggled with his things. By their nicely groomed appearances and well fed glow, they didn't scream the poverty that Harry did when she first met him.

When her three youngest sons brought Harry to the Burrow during the summer, she was repulsed by what they told her they rescued him from. That was what they called it: a _rescue._ They explained that bars were mounted on his window, a small hole was carved out in the door where a plate of dry toast and a cup of water sat in front of it untouched. The door was locked on the outside so Harry couldn't leave his room, and all his belongings were stowed and locked under the stairs. It sounded like Harry was living in a prison rather than a home.

Pulling him aside when she had the chance, Molly decided to finally address the situation. "Harry dear, I wanted to let you know that I'll be writing to your guardians to inform them that you are in good hands. Is that alright?"

It was important to get his approval, though she wasn't fully aware of the extent of Harry's living conditions, she had heard enough to make her heart ache for the boy and burn with fury at his so called relatives. If he didn't want them to know where he was, she surely wasn't going to jeopardize it and disclose his location. Letting them know he was okay was a simple courtesy, really.

He gave her a light shrug, uncaring about Molly's proposal. "I don't think they'd care. I'm pretty sure they wouldn't bother to look for me even if I was legitimately kidnapped, anyway."

The response Harry gave her was appalling that she almost marched out the door in that moment to confront these awful people. "They won't worry?"

"They never have before, but you can write them if you'd like."

Molly hid the concern through a gentle smile before he went out to the garden to help her sons. She should have taken action the moment she saw Harry abandoned at the station, left to his own devices with little knowledge of the magical world. She wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt, to reserve her judgement until she knew for sure, but neglecting the signs, the call that screamed at her from deep within that said; ' _This is wrong'_ was silenced by doubt. Had she not been there at the right time, who knows what could have happened to him if he missed the train?

She made up her mind, this grave error needed to be rectified in the name of motherhood. Even if it wasn't for one of her children, it was for a child in desperate need to be in a safe and secure home life.

Things were going to change, Molly was going to make sure of it.

Pulling some freshly baked pumpkin pastries from the oven, she placed them on a cooling rack before starting on lunch. Wishing to use some leftover ham from the night before, Molly quickly got to work on some ham and cheese scones.

Sticking her head out the window two hours later, she hollered for the kids. "Lunch is ready! Come in and wash up!"

Once everyone was served, Molly finished her letter to Harry's guardians. The growing anger she felt while thinking over what the twins had said about his living situation had her bleed ink into the paper from the pressure of the quill as she signed it. How could anyone fashion a cell in their own home for a kid to live in? Molly decided after she sent everyone off to school a month later, she was going straight to their door and confront the problem directly.

 

It came as no surprise when the Dursley's never responded to her note about Harry's general well being and that he was being looked after. The audacity to not send a reply in acknowledgement fueled her anger even more. They simply _didn't_ care, just as Harry said.

Molly Weasley could admit when she made a grave mistake, but the Dursley's made an even graver one for showing no concern for someone who relied on them. Mother Lioness was coming for them, to not only ease her mind, but to protect her kin in all but blood. After all, she already had taken Harry in as one of her own, regardless if he realized it or even accepted it himself. He was _hers_ now.

Apparating into Little Whinging after sending everyone off to school, Molly smoothed out her dress and tightened her grip on the large purse she brought with that stowed a peace offering of pumpkin pastries, various scones, and tarts within. Marching out of the small cluster of trees onto the pavement, she observed the street signs carefully before finding the one she needed: Privet Drive.

There was no charm or character to the plain looking neighborhood. There wasn't a blade of grass out of place on their pristine gardens as she walked past while looking for the number four. Seeing no motorcar in front of the one she paused in front of, Molly hoped that the person she wished to speak with was still home.

Giving the varnished front door a good knock, Molly patiently waited for someone to answer. A long-necked woman with an ugly look on her face peered from the window nearby before slowly unlocking the door and cracking it open just enough until the chain-lock prevented it from moving any further.

"I'm not interested in your hippy concoctions! Good day!"

Molly stopped the door from closing with a firm hand, finding the reaction quite rude. "Excuse me, Mrs. Dursley? I'm Molly Weasley. I sent you a letter about a month ago in regards to Harry?"

The woman lost all color on her face at the introduction. The witch was surprised she didn't faint on the spot. With a quick movement to remove the chain, she opened the door just a little wider. The long-necked woman stuck her head out to scan the immediate vicinity before reluctantly ushering Molly inside. She didn't want the neighbors to overhear her nephew's name coming from a strange woman wearing a handmade mustard yellow dress with a bold flower print on her doorstep.

Slamming the door, Petunia turned and folded her arms across her waist and pursed her lips as she took in the plump woman's appearance.

"Thank you for having me, Mrs. Dursley," Molly held her hand out to offer a proper greeting, but Petunia only tightened her hands around her own arms and physically stiffened.

The witch wasn't sure how to handle someone with such a stand-offish manner, but she would try and remain polite. "I brought some home-baked goods, thought it'd be nice to have over some tea."

Molly shuffled through her purse then, pulling out her wand and placing it between her teeth before removing the plate of goods to offer Petunia. She looked even more sickly when the witch looked back at her and quickly tucked the wand away.

"I'm sorr—"

"Why are you here?" Petunia snapped suddenly, eyes sharpening. "You said you had Harry handled."

"You speak of him like he is cattle being sent to slaughter," Molly dished back, not finding the statement pleasant. "I was worried my letter became lost when I didn't hear back from you."

"I felt no need to respond," she said coldly.

Molly all but glared at Petunia. Before she said anything else, the witch decided to place the peace offering somewhere and immediately found her way right into the kitchen. Petunia was quick on her heels.

"Where are you going!"

"Just placing these here and getting some tea on."

Just to annoy Petunia, Molly casually swished her wand to have the kettle fill with water and hop onto the now lit gas stove nearby.

The horrifying squeak from Petunia was satisfying. Molly turned on her suddenly, wand still in hand as she placed it on her hip. "Since being polite is not going to be something you want to try, I'll drop the formalities."

Molly unwrapped the baked goods she sat on the table and took a seat. "Let's talk _mother to mother,_ if you will."

Petunia reluctantly sat in the chair opposite the witch. Preparing for where this conversation was going to lead, she dug her manicured nails into her legs while watching Molly weave her magic in front of her. It grabbed the tea and its dressings and danced them over through the air before nestling themselves on the table with the baked goods between them.

Watching the magic flow so freely awed and mortified Petunia all over again.

Molly prepped her tea quietly before taking a sip. "Harry has been under your care for some time now and yet, after only being around him for a short while, he seems to greatly dread his home life. I find it a bit concerning a child loathes the very place he should call home, don't you?"

Petunia swallowed hard, wishing to busy her hands before she drew blood on her legs, she shakily started to prep her own cuppa. "I-It's a difficult task, raising two children, especially when one is a fre–" she stalled, feeling the bright brown eyes of the witch bore into her.

"Being a mother of seven – you heard right, six of them boys – never in my life would I treasure one more than the other, regardless of what they claim," Molly paused to take another drink of tea and grabbed a pumpkin pastry. "Being a mother yourself to not one, but two despite one is not yours by blood, should be treated as a gift. How could you live with yourself treating Harry so poorly? I fail to see the difficulty you claim when you appear to be more than adequately suited to care for two children."

Petunia struggled to remain composed. Getting to her feet without a word, she vanished from the room for several minutes. Molly finished her tea and most of her pastry before Petunia returned with a small locked box. Placing it on the table, she opened it and handed the parchment to the witch.

Molly read it over carefully before Petunia spoke.

"I never wanted to be a part of-of this preposterous freak show!" she snapped, slamming a hand on the table. "No one asked if I wanted to take my sister's child, he was thrust upon me with nothing but a letter and a claim I couldn't just drop him off at some orphanage! I hadn't spoken to Lily for years beforehand, so she had absolutely no reason to burden me with her son. Lily knew I never wanted to be a part of her abnormal world, and for good reason!

"But then that Dumbledore comes here and drops him off like a gift basket, saying there's nutty magic placed on my home that was to help keep him safe," she hissed out, acting scandalized by the entire thing. "Rubbish, I thought, but my hands were tied! You lot use your freakiness to sway people into doing what you want with no regard of others approval!"

Molly listened in silence, mostly out of shock rather than out of courtesy to hear the woman rant away her supposed problems.

"If Harry is so important to _your sort_ , why don't you take him, then?" Petunia snapped, folding her arms across her chest defiantly. "I honestly do not care what you think of me, I have never considered him to be a son of mine, and I never will! He's done nothing but ruin our lives!"

Molly stood up quickly. Shaking a very stern finger between them, she unleashed her own fury. "How _dare_ you speak about that boy as if he's such a terrible burden on you! Children should be anything but! You should've done better in knowing and understanding that you were entrusted with a child – _your sister's son_ – who suffered and survived a devastating outcome against his will. To continue to tear him down and punish him just because of what he is despite knowing all this is absolutely disgusting! What would your own mother think if she saw you treating one of her grandsons like this?"

Petunia dropped back in her chair like a rock as the frightening woman before her sparked fire from her eyes. All the hot air disappeared from her, and the mention of her mother had every last word from her mouth stolen away. She sat there, stunned completely into silence.

"Where is Harry's room?" Molly demanded, suddenly making her way down the hall and to the stairs.

She went up them in no time at all, Petunia now scrambling up them behind her. "You have no right to—"

The witch rounded on her before she made it to the landing. "No, _you have no right!_ My sons told me some horrifying things, and despite how sickening it is to think about, I want to see it for myself."

Petunia did not argue back, and Molly scanned the corridor she now stood in. There were a total of five doors, one of them was a bathroom. It didn't take her but a second to spot the door with a padlock and pet door mounted on it. She felt herself grow pale with revulsion as she easily unlocked the padlock with her wand and pushed open the door. The plain room met her gaze, and as she looked around the barren bedroom, she noticed that what little that was in there was broken down; paint was chipped, the wardrobe didn't close, and the bed looked lumpy. But everything was still in its place and neat. The desk had its chair pushed in, the bed was made, and what looked like old school supplies was neatly sorted on the desk.

There was no personal touch from Harry at all to make the space his own. No pictures, no anything. Molly went and opened the window to let the stuffy air out of the room and saw the frame was damaged from the bars that were now re-installed. It was all true, they really did fashion the place to be a jail cell. Swallowing down the vomit she felt bubbling up, Molly left the room and slammed the door closed.

She pushed past Petunia and made for the kitchen to collect her purse. Petunia had found her voice in the several long minutes of losing it, courage restored.

"It isn't as if we _whip_ the boy. He is fed, clothed, and bathed. All of the essentials are given."

Molly wasn't having any of it.

"Harry is only a _child_ . He needs love, affection, and a place to safely call home with people who can properly provide this without thinking it's an obligation! How _dare_ you call yourself a mother! There is far more to it than the bare essentials. You have his room fashioned as a cage and you talk about him like he is some feral child you plucked from the forest!" Molly's outward appearance turned fierce now, voice raising with every sentence as her frustration with what she uncovered overwhelmed her.

"You should be ashamed of yourself for knowingly inflicting harm to an innocent person like this!" Molly collected her tray of baked goods, rewrapped them, and stuffed them carelessly into her bag.

Flicking her wand, she had her teacup hop over to the sink to self clean itself and rest in the drain tray to dry. "You don't have to convince me to take that poor boy off your cruel, ungrateful hands! Blood wards or _not!_ Harry deserves someone far better than _you people!_ "

Petunia remained quiet, yet her face was still stone cold and passive. This infuriated Molly even more that the woman held no shame or guilt for what she had done. The witch was certainly going to have some strong words with Dumbledore after learning that it was his idea to place Harry in the home of these vile people. If he thought this was a way to keep him safe, he was dreadfully wrong. How could he claim this kept him out of harm's way when the very people he lived with were the ones harming him! _How dare he?_

Molly started for the front door, but paused when she realized that she didn't need to leave the normal way out of respect anymore. "Do not think this is the last time you will see or hear from me, Mrs. Dursley!"

She disapparated right in front of Petunia, uncaring of her reaction or the sound it left behind. Molly was on a mission to hunt down Dumbledore and give him an earful while she planned to happily tell Harry that he won't need to worry about returning to the Dursley's at the end of term ever again. There was no way she was going to have something such as blood magic keep her from taking him, there were plenty of other old and powerful charms that could be put in place on her own home that would protect him just as well. If he needed protection, Molly was more than capable of offering that, and more.

 

Dark Lord be damned! Harry was going to get the life he deserved.


	2. Arthur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As noted in the first chapter, this is diverging from canon. Harry and Ron made it on the train without Dobby's interference because Molly made sure all the children passed the barrier before she did. Why? Because a responsible parent would, that is why. Arthur had to be at work early in this version, but that doesn't mean to say he didn't help with the packing and driving/dropping off beforehand. He just left for the Ministry after getting everyone to King's Cross.
> 
> Oh my gosh, the response to this story is amazingly overwhelming. Thank you to all who have reviewed,bookmarked, and kudoed. It truly means a lot to me. I am not sure how long this story will run, but I look forward to walking the journey with all of you. xoxo  
> Enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
>  _Originally written for:_  
>  Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)  
> Monthly Challenges For All  
> The Houses Competition
> 
>  **Word Count:** (Per Google Docs) 1,573

* * *

 

**Chapter 2 - Arthur**

 

Molly wasn't in the best of moods as she attempted to focus on the beef stew bubbling in the large cooking pot in front of her.  She stirred the contents absentmindedly with a long, thick wooden spoon while reflecting on the horror she endured earlier during her impulsive visit to Harry's guardians’ home.

To know that Petunia – a _mother_ herself – could have a clear conscience while she and her family inflicted such neglect on a child related to them was appalling.  Molly was not going to stand by and allow such mistreatment to continue. She scooped the wooden spoon out of the stew to give it a taste.  Supper was the last thing on her mind right now, but there was still someone around during the school year that needed her attention.

Arthur walked through the kitchen door as Molly pulled the fresh batch of bread from the oven.  His late nights at work took their toll on her as much as they did him, especially when he was in charge of orchestrating the routine investigations that sought out illegal uses of muggle items.  Much to her disdain, the overtime offered very little revenue for the work it entailed.

She leaned into him when he approached to give her a kiss on the cheek.  He looked very tired, it reflected how she felt mentally, but Molly wasn’t going to allow tiredness to stop her from discussing her plans with him on getting Harry out of that dreadful place he was supposed to call a home.

“How was your day, dear?” the witch asked as she swished her wand at the cupboards to have the kitchenware set themselves neatly on the worn down table.

Arthur sat down heavily on the tables end, letting out a long breath as the bowl and utensils placed themselves in front of him.  “As always, the process is exhausting. You’d think that people would use their heads when it comes to considering charming or hexing something that really shouldn’t be tampered with.”

Molly bit her tongue at the comment as she placed the bread at the tables center.  Taking her seat on his right, she summoned the large pot of stew to settle on the knitted hot plate mat in front of them.

Sometimes Arthur said the most contradicting things when it came to his job that would have himself arrested if his own personal hobbies were ever questioned.  He tampered with several muggle things in his shed, but he wasn’t stupid or reckless with it at all. Arthur safeguarded his own job that, if his tinkering with muggle objects was ever brought to question, he was protected under a law he wrote himself stating it all was conducive to his work.  It allowed him to experiment and observe how certain muggle stuff behaved with magic so it could be identified should a future case arise.

Yet Molly wasn’t stupid, she knew he tinkered with things that no one else would ever dream to modify with magic.  She found the fascination a little odd, but she would be the last person to tell him that it was a complete waste of time.  Arthur needed a hobby just as much as she did, especially now when their nest was empty for a large portion of the year.

She collected his bowl and took the wooden spoon to serve her husband before giving herself a helping.  Molly always made large meals without a second thought, so even when it was just the two of them in the house, she didn’t bother to consider the balance between quantity and headcount.  Leftovers were a staple in the house, so it wasn’t like it would go to waste, it was just going to be an adjustment period for her moving forward.

“How was your day?” Arthur inquired, slicing some bread for them.  “First time with an empty house, I hope it wasn’t as awful as you feared?”

Molly worried her lip at the questions.  Being alone in the house was a concern of hers until Harry came along during the summer.  He had been her priority ever since.

“You seem… distracted,” Arthur continued.

“It could have gone better,” she stated, accepting the offered bread and pouring a glass of fresh spring water for them.  “I went to Harry’s guardians house today after dropping the children off at Kings Cross.”

Arthur paused in buttering the warm bread to look at Molly.  “What made you want to go and do that?”

The surprise in his tone put her on edge.  Surely he wasn’t completely oblivious to what she clearly saw from Harry’s general wellbeing?

“I was worried about what the twins told me on how they found him.  If his home life called for what they deemed a rescue mission, wouldn’t you want to investigate?” Molly paused a moment to sip her water, throat drying from reciting the awful information.  “Especially when it applies to a boy who saved us all from _his_ devastating reign.  I only wanted to make things better, and I found out that just talking to those people wasn’t going to be enough.”

Errol toppled onto the counter from the open window in that moment bearing the _Evening_ _Prophet_.  The owl gave a shake of his head before hopping onto the empty chair back and offering it to Arthur.  After accepting the paper, he gave Errol a piece of bread before the clumsy owl flew back out the window to the coop for the night.

“I’d have chalked it up to over-exaggerated kid talk—” Arthur cut himself off after Molly got that frightening look on her face.

He cleared his throat and reapproached the topic.  “You’re right, dear. I honestly didn’t think of it in that manner.”

He unfolded the paper and placed it beside his bowl, dipping the bread in the broth as he scanned the front page.  “So what came of your trip to the muggle world?”

Molly gave the stew a quick stir with the wooden spoon before abandoning it back in the pot.  “I was absolutely mortified, Arthur!”

The wizard stopped his casual reading to give his wife the undivided attention he knew she was needing.  Molly meant business on this topic, and he’d be a fool to half ignore her about it over dinner.

“Those awful people have his room fashioned like a prison cell.  I felt ill just looking at it. Not to mention that that woman could call herself a mother and knowingly continue to treat that poor boy so terribly.”  Molly was on her feet now, pacing in the kitchen as she talked.

This was a normal routine when she was frustrated or upset.  Her supper was quickly forgotten on the table as she went to clean.  Arthur got up and placed a gentle hand on Molly’s shoulder, pulling her from the premeditated cleaning she was suddenly intent on doing.

“I’m sure we can figure out something to help ease Harry’s home life.”

“I’d be putting every good mother to shame if I don’t do something about it, Arthur,” Molly said, leaning into her husband to accept the hug he offered.  “Knowing that he’s endured so much for so long already hurts me so much.”

She tucked her head under Arthur’s chin as they embraced.  “I am not sure what it will take or what we could do—”

“The only way I know that will truly help is to take him away from such travesty,” she said quietly.  “And that means I will be speaking to Dumbledore about it as soon as I am able. He’s the one Harry’s Aunt said placed him in her care in the first place, so I will go directly to the source.”

Molly’s tone shifted from distress to determination.  Arthur knew that her mind was made up; trying to sway her from this decision to take Harry in would be impossible at this point.  He pulled back and looked at her fondly.

“I know you would take on You-Know-Who himself for the sake of your kin, and I love you deeply for it.  If talking to Dumbledore is what is needed to fix this troublesome situation, for you and for that wonderful boy you already call your own, than you know I’d do anything for you and I support you every step of the way.”

Molly felt the tears well up in her eyes, taking the black towel she unknowingly had in hand to dab them away.  Arthur gave her a loving kiss before guiding her back to her chair and pushing it in as she sat so the two could resume their supper together.  It was quite rare for them to revel in the quiet of their home, they couldn’t let it go to waste, even if they were discussing practically adopting the Boy-Who-Lived like it was a daily consideration between them.

“After supper I will rearrange Ron’s room and get the spare bed in there.  He won’t mind sharing a room, would he?”

Molly wanted to shed even more fresh tears of joy at the unquestioned support Arthur was declaring.  She knew she chose the perfect companion for her to raise a family with based on how much love he had to offer rivaled her own.  She grabbed the wooden spoon and gave a fresh scoop of the stew to each of them to warm it up.

 

“I doubt he would.”


	3. Dumbledore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added in the previous chapters A/N that Ron and Harry made it on the train without Dobby's interference at Kings Cross because Molly made sure all the children went through before her. Since I removed that conflict, I added train engine troubles instead that greatly delayed its arrival to the school. ;)  
> Fair warning: This isn't a particularly Dumbledore-Friendly chapter, though I feel I justified it well enough.
> 
>  
> 
>  _Originally written for:_  
>  Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)  
> Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition  
> Monthly Challenges For All  
> The Houses Competition
> 
>  **Word Count:** (Per Google Docs) 2,127

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**Chapter 3 - Dumbledore**

 

Molly stared down the elder wizard who sat across the vast desk in front of her.  He appeared as calm and collected as he always did while he looked back at her over his half-moon spectacles, watching the witch in silence as if he already knew the reason as to why she was there.

“Thank you for seeing us on such short notice, Headmaster,” Molly said, keeping her composure to at least offer a pleasant greeting.

“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.  To what I owe the pleasure of in regards to this meeting?” Albus’ gaze switched between the two as he spoke.  “If it is about the incident in regards to the Hogwarts Express breaking down shortly before young Ronald and Harry were caught sneaking into the train’s engine room, I assure you that they will not be expelled.  Just a healthy number of detentions were given, and I’m quite sure the young man is embarrassed enough about the situation already that informing him of your presence would only further his agitation of the matter.

“And as for your daughter Ginny, I’m sure you’re happy to learn that she has been sorted into Gryffindor.  Naturally, I never doubted her house allegiance in the slightest.”

This information was already relayed to her via owl the night before, though the timing of Ron tampering with the train aligning with Molly’s concern for Harry was pure coincidence.  Before Molly could bring up the subject as to why they were there, Albus had flourished his hand, summoning an elf in the blink of an eye. The small champagne colored house elf held a polished silver tray with a full, fresh tea service and biscuits ready to go.  The yellow teapot with a black flower pattern had steam wisping from its mouth, indicating its fresh boiled water within. The elf had vanished as quietly as it had appeared.

“Since you have taken time out of your working day to meet with me this morning, Arthur, may I interest you in a cuppa?” Albus flipped a teacup over and leisurely prepared his drink as if they had all the time in the world.  “I’m sure you have your hands quite full with the extra raids being executed back at the Ministry, Arthur. If you need any assistance on the matter, I would be more than happy to aid you on handling them in hopes that you secure increased assets from it.”

“Headmaster Dumbledore, we wouldn’t be taking up your precious time if it wasn’t important,” Arthur stated, shifting awkwardly in his chair at the strange atmosphere that settled in the office.  “But I appreciate your concern about my job. I’m not too worried about it myself at the moment.”

Molly gave her husband a concerned look, remembering his exhaustion from the night prior and how he mentioned that he wasn’t even halfway done with them.  She knew he came with her to avoid the Ministry for as long as possible, but he was also there for support and to reinforce her case in regards to Harry. She remained quiet, mentally preparing herself to present her case to the elder wizard.

“Ah, time.  It always has a way of getting away from us all eventually, doesn’t it?”  Albus offered a canary yellow teacup to both of them. They quietly declined with a wave of their hands.  “I understand that you are not here for casual conversation over tea. Quite a shame. I rather enjoy conversing with older alumni of mine.”

Molly had straightened her posture as the headmaster took his time sipping at his tea.  She was already growing impatient with him, and the shift in the air hinted that the elder wizard already anticipated an unpleasant conversation ahead.  The witch was not going to be swayed from this. He could use all his subtle intimidation, deflection, and undertones of bribry tactics all he wanted. Molly was not going to back down.

“I am here to inquire some rather deplorable things I recently learned about Harry Potter’s living conditions,” Molly said suddenly, having had the time to gather her bravery to discuss their visit.  “And I am rather appalled to know that you are directly responsible for placing such a kind and delicate child who has been burdened with such trauma and loss in the hands of those awful people.”

This didn’t seem to phase Albus as he intently listened to the witch while holding the teacup to his lips.  He looked at her through his glasses this time, head slightly raised, before that cup touched his mouth again for a quiet sip.

“I see,” Albus started, seeming to want to add more to the simple comment.

This only angered Molly more.  “How could you be so irresponsible with that boy?”

Arthur jerked in his seat, startled at his wife’s outburst.  The headmaster raised a hand in a silent gesture to calm the situation.  “Mrs. Weasley, though your anger is quite valid on Harry’s behalf, I’m afraid it is misdirected.  Whatever has caused such speculation to make you believe I have placed Harry in harm's way is a grave misunderstanding.”

The fire sparked from Molly’s eyes now.   _“Speculation?”_

“Ah, Headmaster Dumbledore,” Arthur interjected, placing a light hand on his wife’s arm when she half-rose in her seat in hopes to diffuse the brewing situation.  “You know that Molly and I hold a great respect for everything that you have done during your time at Hogwarts, as well as the Ministry, to date so far. We wouldn’t doubt your judgement when it comes to many things.  After all you played a prominent role on the frontlines of two Wars. But I would appreciate it if you would listen to my wife and not dismiss her concerns as simple hearsay.”

Albus gazed at the pair for several long seconds.  The air between them was thick with tension, and Molly could see that the elder man was carefully calculating his next several sentences.  She felt a faint envy for how composed he remained as he did this, but it didn’t matter how he prepared to sway the conversation, Molly was not going to change her argument in any way.  She didn’t care how loud she had to get or what she had to say, she was going to walk away the victor. Molly knew he was gifted in analyzing everything carefully, and the drawn out silence was a tactic of his to deter others from attempting to further question him like she had done.

“My apologizes, Mrs. Weasley,” Albus finally stated, finishing the remains of his tea before placing it on the saucer nearby.  “Concluding that your worries were based on speculation was erroneous. Is it correct to say that you are not in favor of Harry’s only family being responsible for his care?”

Molly let out a heavy breath, she was not going to be undermined.  “Of course it is, and you should be just as disgusted knowing you placed him in such an environment.  Don’t you dare tell me you are not aware of how he is being treated under their roof! I saw it for myself, heard the coldness in that woman’s voice when she spoke of Harry _myself_.  They treat the boy like they found him in the woods while having a wand to their heads with someone telling them they couldn’t leave him behind.”

“I am sure you are well-versed in Harry’s story, Mrs. Weasley,” Dumbledore commented, seeming to not have heard a word Molly said.  “At the time there were very few options for the boy. I provided him the best opportunity that presented itself for his well-being, and that was taking him away from our world.  His only family has kept the ancient magic imbued in him given from his mother that is strengthened by the charms I added. They are his only defenses he has against Voldemort.”

She, along with Arthur, flinched at the name, but the opportunity Molly was needing had presented itself.  The magic Albus spoke of may have been present at one time, but when she was there inside that house, she felt no trace of said ancient magic safeguarding the home.  Such old magic was easily felt, a form of a side effect of sorts, but it also hedged a warning to those wishing to breach it. The only remnants of it lingered in the places where Harry seemed to consider his safe spaces as if the protection of Lily’s sacrifice bled out into them in a way.  Knowing that the residual magic was prominent by the stairs and not from the small plain room with worn down furniture was distressing to her. It told her enough that Harry had only recently been placed in the room, and that the Dursleys had narrowly avoided ridicule of where he was truly kept before then.

It was appalling to realize that this man in front of her was considered a wise wizard in their world.

“You know of his suffering, and you claim to have the power to do right by that boy, so why not follow through with it?” Molly challenged, shifting to the edge of her seat.  “That magic you speak of was not present in that home, not anymore at least. It was barely even traceable. If you were relying on him to keep thinking that place was home to keep those wards active, then your judgement is deeply flawed.  That protection was gone as soon he saw what it was like to be somewhere that showed him even the smallest of care and comfort like a proper home should have.”

The fire she felt burning in her core had her own magic crackle under her skin and from her eyes. Albus didn't attempt to explain away her revelation.  Instead he looked past her with the sharpest of blue eyes as her words turned cold between them.

“Is there any way to assure you that I promise Harry’s best interests is to remain in his only family's care and protection?”

Molly got to her feet, collecting her oversized purse from the floor.  "That's a piecrust promise, Headmaster. Easily made, easily broken.”

He wasn't denying anything she said, nor was he fully acknowledging it, either.  She was not going to get the elder wizard to do what needed to be done, but she still made her voice heard.

“You can do right by that boy and release him into my care immediately, or I will take it upon myself and do it anyway and so help me, Headmaster, your interference will _not_ be wise.” She placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze for silent comfort.  He rested his own over it for assurance that he supported her testimony.

“My father used to always say that it was the honest ones that you have to watch out for,” Molly snarled out.  “They’re the ones you can never predict, and oftentimes it resulted them doing something incredibly stupid. Knowing that you have willingly allowed a child to stay in such a toxic home life, one that has caused Harry more unnecessary suffering, while fully aware of what was going on is deplorable, _disturbing,_ and certainly no accident _._  He’s just a boy for pity’s sake!"

She turned on her heel and stormed for the fireplace nearby to head home.  There was work to be done. Arthur was slower to leave, not able to make eye contact with Albus as he stood up and cleared his throat.

“Well, you heard it loud and clear, Headmaster.  We will be taking responsibility of the boy from now on,”  he declared, fortifying everything Molly had said. “I hope you understand where Molly is coming from, because this decision isn’t going to change.  Harry will be in good hands.” Arthur collected his briefcase and hat, giving a dismissive nod.

“Good day to you.”

Molly heard her husband’s statement before stepping through the Floo back to the Burrow.  She had people to contact to get the best protective magic covering her home for Harry. There were letters to be written, and preparations with the Dursleys to be made.  She also had to make sure that Harry was fully informed of what was going on. It was important that he knew he had a choice, a say on where he could live, a choice that would greatly impact his life.  This was something she knew was never an option given to him until now, and will be prepared for him to take it very apprehensively.

 

Harry needed someone who would take care of him, love him, and enjoy his very presence.  Molly wanted to give that to him. It was the least she could do, after all.


End file.
